


Balm for all scars

by sapoeysap



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, M/M, Martial Arts, Social Anxiety, set in the 1990s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-21 20:08:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9564353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapoeysap/pseuds/sapoeysap
Summary: Jyn's dragged the guys along to watch a martial arts demo. Supposedly the guy can hold off 6 guys at once.Baze is all ready to complain until he sets his eyes upon the martial artist.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starshaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starshaker/gifts).



> I'm a sucker for a High School Star Wars AU. This is my take on one. Featuring a social anxious Baze falling in love, Chirrut as the coolest martial artist ever, Cassian as the cool wingman, Jyn as the even cooler and more resourceful wingman, and Bodhi as the overexcited friend. 
> 
> It's based loosely of a Power Rangers Zeo episode and as such consider it to take place in a 90s ish setting as that's how I envisioned it.  
> UPDATE: Decided to make this a multi-chaptered piece. Will update as frequently as Uni allows for. Expect about 4 or 5 chapters.  
> Dedicated to
> 
>  
> 
> [Starshaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starshaker/pseuds/Starshaker)
> 
>  
> 
> as I appreciate anyone who says they want to see more of a story.

_You are a sage who is fueled by compassion comes to  
Nooks and crannies as balm for all scars_

 

Baze Malbus hates people, or rather, people, his friends, taking him places. He’s too gruff, looks to be in his late 20s, not a mere 17. Lacks the social finesse to fit in. Jyn, Cassian and Bodhi are fully aware of this, and how uncomfortable he feels doing things outside the group, but they continue to try and integrate him anyway. He doesn’t hate them for it, is rather grateful they get him out of the house sometimes, but he could never really explain in words what that meant, so he just lets them drag him out the house with minimal protest.

Walking along the pavement, Cassian and Jyn behind him, there arms linked as loosely as their chatter, heading down towards the local gym. Some martial artist of reasonable acclaim is doing a demonstration, and Jyn has made the executive decision that they would all enjoy it, and none of the guys dare speak out against her. His two friends’ conversation pulls him out of his winding thoughts.  “He can fend off 6 guys at once, it’s amazing… I bet you two are jealous”. He just snorts at that comment, Cassian drolling off a ‘yeah yeah whatever’, cocksure of his own fighting abilities. But before Jyn can snap back, a “Yo guys, over here” causes them all to snap their necks around, spotting Bodhi waving enthusiastically off to the side of the entrance. The normal over excited hugs are exchange between the 3 of them as Baze just kind of stands to the side awkwardly, he never participates in the hugging ritual the others have, they’ve given up bothering him about it.

They meander into the demonstration area, sitting down just as the martial artist is about to begin. And Baze can’t help but think how hot the guy is, he’s probably about their age, skinny body that moves with such grace and fluidity, that somehow instead of making the teen look weak, made him look more powerful. Each kick packed such force, each grunt came from a mouth set into an easy smirk. Baze feels like he’s staring at the most handsome face he’s ever set eyes upon, all chiselled jaw short cropped hair and what look like the prettiest blue eyes the world has to offer. The nudge he feels on his side means Bodhi has caught on to his staring and the rare smile that adorns his face. He’s been caught now, and now he’s never gonna hear the end of this.

The martial artist has finished his demonstration, he had fended off 8 guys, which is better than the promised 6, and Baze can feel Cassian shifting in excitement next to him. And then the shocker happens, hot martial artist, has walked backwards to a bench and picked up a guide stick. The ‘Holy fucking shit he’s blind’ that escapes his mouth makes Jyn snigger, but he’s up and out of his seat walking over to the man. The other 3 follow along, both amazed at what they’ve just seen and the fact that Baze is wanting to go do something social for once. Jyn manages to catch up and speaks first. “Chirrut, that was amazing” the man smirks, “Thanks”. Baze chooses then to introduce them all.

“Chirrut, hi, I’m Baze, and these are my friends, Cassian, Bodhi and Jyn.” He can’t help but point them out with his hands, but midway through Cassian’s name he realises the arm actions are pointless. Chirrut smiles, head slowly turning to the voices, “Hi”, his voice is soft, friendly inflection. Cassian speaks up next. “That was really amazing, you held off 8 guys” Chirrut is smiling, but the smile fades into more of a grimace as Bodhi asks where he learnt martial arts.

“Is that because I am blind?” It’s a unexpected snap, speaks straight to Baze’s soul, “We didn’t mean like that, we meant, who taught you, we are interested, you were amazing.” Chirrut’s face stays set in a frown, “My mother taught me. Okay” and he gets up and walks away. There all bemused, staring forlornly at the teen that just left. Then the bemusement turns to giggles, as Baze follows.

“Baze has a crush” he doesn’t even know who said it, but the “Shut up” he growls back gets playful “oohs” in reply.

“Chirrut wait a second”

He does, stick stopping its taps against the ground, Baze grabs on to the starched fabric of Chirrut’s Gi.

“I don’t need your assistance, Baze”

“How do you know… nevermind, look Chirrut, I’m sorry If what we said bugged you. Just.”

The social anxiety catches up to him, words sticking, pit in his stomach forming. Everything was suddenly not okay.

“Baze. I said it was alright.” And then Chirrut’s hands are against Baze’s face, soft and gentle, there for a second, searing heat into Baze’s skin. The hand moves to his side, entwining with his arm and Chirrut is forcing him to walk. “You with me?” Baze can only grunt in reply.

The walk is silent, apart from the fact Baze has convinced himself that Chirrut can hear his heart beating staccato in his chest. Somehow the blind man has guided them both to the prettiest part of town, the pagoda by the lake. “I can’t hear your heart Baze, relax its fine.”

“Oh”

How the fuck the man knew what he was thinking is beyond him. But he did.

They lapse back into silence as they settle on a bench. It stays that way for a time. Baze’s eyes follow families of ducks, the people that feed said ducks, children on push bikes, a normal day by the lake. It takes him a while to realise the man next to him is meditating, breathing slowly and perfectly relaxed. He takes it as an excuse to stare at the man, studying his features. Then the lids that cover the milky blue eyes open, he looks away automatically. Chirrut smiles as if he has caught him in the act.

“You know your friends are hidden behind the bush over there, and have been for half an hour”

Baze is stutter shocked, he thought he had studied the environment perfectly, but obviously not.

“Look harder” Chirrut is pointing now at the bush, and then he’s moving in and planting the softest kiss on Baze’s lips.

In the second before he closes his eyes, he watches Cassian fall out of the bush, and as his eyelids close, he can hear Jyn and Bodhi whoop in the background.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baze forgot one important thing in his anxious elation. Jyn has his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The much improved, slightly longer chapter 2 that I didn't even expect to write.  
> Thank you for the comments and Kudos on the original, they mean alot. :)

_You are a vision who lives by the signals  
Of stomach and intuition as your guide_

Chirrut spent the evening tracing fingers over his lips, mapping out where Baze’s lips had touched, committing the touches to a mere memory. Baze had shooed off his mischievous friends, then walked him home, leaving Chirrut on the doorstep with nothing but a grunt for a goodbye. The conversation was silent, convey more emotions than talk, but lacking in finer details. Such as phone numbers, or which school the gruff man attended. So here Chirrut was relegated to his bedroom floor, sat in a lotus position, tracing Baze’s touches, pleasant smile crossing his features. He had been brave today, trusting fully in his emotions, and it might not have paid off, he might never see the other teen again. None of this mattered really in the long scheme, lingering doubts of ‘who would want to love a blind man’ playing through his mind. No amount of upbeat positivity that he let inhabit his soul could ever get rid of that niggling thought. And Baze, would forever be the long haired anxious but gruff man boy he kissed on a bench, the pale sunlight that had warmed him on the bench, seeped away from him, taking the memory too.

* * *

 

“fucking stupid dumbass idiot fool you are Malbus” the curses streamed out of his mouth, anger at himself. Stupid martial artist all defending himself then turning out to be a blind mind reader. What a dumb thing. What a hot attractive dumb thing. He’d spent the evening walking around aimlessly, cursing himself for not giving Chirrut his phone number or even last name. Making it home way past curfew. Parents long gone to work, and the blinking answering machine the only light in the dark hallway.

“BAZE! WHAT HAPPENED DID YOU DO ANYTHING CALL ME OKAY?! I NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING!”

Bodhi was truly a puppy, but his overenthusiasm sucked Baze further into his sadness. The message clicked off, machine voice telling stating the time of the next missed call.

“Yo Malbus, it’s Cassian. Guess you knew that though. The fact you’re not picking up tells me that its going well Mr Sexy Martial Artist. Hope you were safe and whatever. Um you probably wanna call Bodh’s back, or he will never stop bugging you. Bye buddy.”

Cassian’s accented drawl calmed him, and by the time the next message clicked on he was prepped for what Jyn had to say.

“You forget to give him your number, didn’t you? Well that’s okay, I have his contact details, courtesy of my amazing super sleuth skills. You can hug me later, well actually in homeroom tomorrow when I hand the goods over, bye Love you” He can practically hear her smiling through the phone. It’s enough to stop him from going into all out panic mode straightaway. But then he realises that it means he can see Chirrut again, he stumbles to his bedroom, trying and failing to get thoughts of the possibility of seeing Chirrut, flopping to his bed in defeat.

Every time he closes his eyes, he can feel Chirrut’s lips press against his own. It consumes his thoughts, he lets his own hand snake its way to his jeans, opening them and jerking off to the thought of Chirrut’s lithe body dancing across padded mats, milky eyes piercing into his soul. It’s the guiltiest orgasm in his life, lying in his own mess letting sleep finally drag him down into its clutches.

The alarm screams him into awakeness, in what feels like mere moments after he had fallen asleep. Its gross to wake up in yesterday’s clothes and dried-cum flaked jeans. It’s a rush to get ready for school and to do it as silently as possible so as not to wake his sleeping parents. And then it’s out of the house, in week old unwashed jeans, some grey shirt that was reasonably clean, and a flannel shirt. The look combined with his long unkempt hair and combat boots did nothing to help his popularity. He stomped into homeroom, making it just in time. Jyn slides the all-important paper over the desk. He shoves it into his bag before he even considers looking at it properly, not committed yet to the information Jyn has carefully handwritten. The day continues like this following its normal structured routine, just with the knowledge that this piece of paper is hidden away in the bag at his side. They meet up at lunch in their normal spot, Bodhi barrels towards him hundred questions a minute. Cassian quirks his eyebrows as Baze actually replies to each of their questions.

“Holy shit, man he really got under your skin. I haven’t heard you say this much since god knows when” The blush Cassian gets in reply tells the Hispanic man all he needs to know. Baze is lucky Cas’ isn’t one for torment or teasing.

Jyn is politer, though ever inquisitive. She starts by apologizing for stalking them to the park, but who could blame their curiosity. It’s the first time he’s ever been this open, this talkative. It feels good. Cassian shuts Bodhi up with a smouldering look. Jyn just smiles at them all, eyes saying she’s realised something and for once Baze isn’t fearful about what she has realised. Lunch ends with the promise that they will leave him alone tonight, but he must tell all tomorrow at lunch.

Afternoon classes stretch out, far too long is spent, with the paper burning a hole in his pocket. He jogs home once he’s out of the school’s sight. The moment he’s home he scrambles for Unfolding the paper Jyn has crafted.

**_Chirrut Îmwe_ **

**_555-0160_ **

  * _Blind since birth_
  * _Mum trained him in martial arts_
  * _Only child_
  * _Independent_
  * _Very very cute ;)_



He punches the number in, the first dial tone hits his body with a tremendous anxiety. The second brings shallow breathing, the third brings sweats, the fourth brings Chirrut’s sweet voice.

“Hello, you have reached the Îmwe household. This is Chirrut.”

The Hello that he replies with comes out after a gulp.

“Baze? Thank the lord. Go on, tell me which one of your scheming friends found my number”

It snaps Baze into awareness, he could swear every negative feeling he had ever thought or felt dissipated in the way Chirrut said his name. His reply feels like the first word that has ever come forth from his mouth he is so at ease.

“It was Jyn. I didn’t ask her too, I swear. She just did.”

“Well I’m grateful she did.”

The next sentence falls from his mouth with no thought

“How did you find the phone if you can’t see it?”

Chirrut giggles, the mirth stops the anxious panic from settling again in Baze.

“All the saved numbers have a different ring so I know whose who, and I answered the phone in my room, which I have been told is ‘minimalistic’ and as such everything is easy for me to find.”

This well thought out reply, is said with such grace, and calm. As if the blind man truly wanted Baze to know how he did it. So, unlike the arrogant snap he had at Bodhi only yesterday.

They talk for an hour. Baze standing in the hallway off his house, ignoring the throbbing of his aching feet, it was worth the pain.

When he walks into homeroom the next day, his smile says all.

“Baze has a date” is all he understands from the Bodhi that has wrapped his arms around Baze’s body. Cassian’s clap on the back gives him a new feeling.

“Yes Bodhi, Baze has a date.” It’s the first time his friends see him smile properly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bodhi somehow became a very hyper person here, I imagine him as somewhat skittish and nervous around others, but very hyper and happy once you get to know him.  
> Also there is a blink and you'll miss it ship tease between Bodhi and Cassian, this was unintended, but works, and maybe that will get developed into something more. Then again maybe not.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First dates are tentative, till you get to the making out part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm letting ideas for this fic consume me.  
> Also I keep re-editing the whole thing when I re-read and realise mistakes. That is the problem of not having a BETA. Feel free to point out any mistakes/continuity errors.

_You are a spirit that knows of no limit  
Who knows of no ceiling, who balks at dead ends_

Cassian is the only candidate for actually helping him prep for this ‘date’. The confidence the others had seen in hoomroom was long gone, replaced by a kind of nervous edge, that if wasn’t distracted threatened to blow up inside him. Cassian’s accent is relaxing, the other teen has some suave charm, flirts easily with both Bodhi and Jyn, and unlike the other two, understands the whole ‘aloof’ thing Baze is going for. Cassian also has the better music taste of the three, considering himself a connoisseur of music.

Some band crackles out from the cassette player in the corner of Baze’s room, guitars only emphasising the mess the room was currently in. Cassian stands in the middle of the mess, looking at Baze with what can only be described as a mix of hatred and awe in his eyes.

“Do you own anything other than flannel Malbus?”

“Should I?”

“I guess not. It suits you. It swamps me….” the pause is filled with a long suffering sigh. “Flannel it is”

“Does it even matter what I’m wearing, the idiots blind”

“Awww nicknames already! And yes it does. I get the feeling the boy picks up on these things, sight or no sight.”

Baze hates how right Cassian is.

The outfit is settled on, washed out jeans, paired with a trusty flannel shirt over a dark blue t-shirt. Finished off with a baseball cap holding back his long hair. He’d hadn’t shaved in a while; afraid he might cut himself with how much his hands where shaking out of nerves. Cassian steps back to admire his creation eyes appraising, smirk planted firmly.

“Fuck Baze. That’s a good fucking look on you.”

And hell thats the highest compliment anyone has ever paid him.

Maybe it’s the nervous excitement, but he pulls the other into a bear hug. Its thanks enough. The static silence that fills the room as the side of the cassette comes to an end breaks the two apart. Cassian smile is pleased, already making a note to call Jyn and tell her that their little boy is all grown up.

Baze is standing awkwardly, not too sure what to do now he is in a Cas’ approved outfit. But then his backpack is being offered, so he takes it. Turning off the cassette player, and taking one last look around the mess of a room, the boys take their leave, padding down to the front door.

“Final check Malbus”

Baze grunts in reply. Cassian is counting off a list on his fingers, stating something than agreeing.

“Money?” – “Yes”

“Breath Mints” – “Yes”

“House keys” – “Yes”

“Cas I have everything. You packed my bag for me. I’m good okay”

“Right. Well good luck Malbus. Be safe okay, expect the normal phone calls okay”

And the teen is out the front door and down the street before Baze can even reply.

Taking a deep breath to steel his nerves. He locks the front door, and heads towards the lake. The group had decided he couldn’t drive to the date, since his hands hadn’t stopped shaking with nerves. But somehow being on a walk alone to this date with cute handsome idiot Chirrut was filling his mind with a sort of calm that he didn’t quite expect. Chirrut and his soft lips, his confidence, the fact that they talked for an hour on the phone about everything and nothing. The grainy song that had been playing in the room blasting in his head. A confidence booster. Lyrics ringing through as things he would maybe like to do with Chirrut. The only thought that sticks out in his mind amongst the clatter is “I’m in too deep for the boy already”

He’s at the park perimeter before he’s realised it, afternoon sun gleaming off the lake, and warming him through the fabric of his shirt. It’s easy to spot his date, sat on the bench where they had shared their first kiss, sunlight bouncing off of the shorn hair. Its stunning. He’s not a sentimental man but he should of stolen Bodhi’s polaroid to capture the scene in front of him. And then the scene in front of him disappears very quickly, turning into the dusty pavement, accompanied by a very loud ‘ooof’. Confident Baze evaporates, and he’s sure he hears very familiar giggles coming from a very familiar bush.

“Baze Malbus! Nice of you to make an entrance”

By the time he stands, Chirrut’s head has turned, blue constellation eyes staring right at him. Dusting himself off, he marches over with what’s left of his dignity drawn to the other teens smile like a magnet. It’s the first time he has seen Chirrut in normal clothes. He’s dressed simply. White vest paired with dark blue high waisted jeans and a puffy brown leather jacket. For a brief second Baze considers the possibility that Jyn had dressed Chirrut because he looked suspiciously like how he described his ideal man, but surely Jyn wouldn’t be that clever.

“Like what you see? I can feel your eyes gazing through me. Stop gawking and come here so I can tell you how good you look too”. Something about the way it is said forces Baze’s legs to move off their own accord over to the other teen. Chirrut’s hands are cool against the summer air as they touch him, feeling and identifying the look Baze has gone for.

“Is this shirt not a bit hot?”

Baze removes it.

“Better?”

Chirrut’s hands slide up to his neck. “Your hairs gone” he remarks, before sliding his hands up further and coming into contact with the baseball cap. “Oh. That makes more sense. And the stubble. I like that.” It has taken less than a week, but Baze has realised one very important thing about Chirrut, to never underestimate the other, he is always full of surprises. Such as soft kisses pressed to lips very quickly, while delicate hands run swirls across his back. The biggest surprise is the bereft feeling when Chirrut’s soft lips pull away. That empty hollow feeling.

Much of the same happens as there previous meeting, except now its marked by lingering touches, and much more name calling, ‘idiot’ suits them both, suits the relationship that has taken its wobbly unsure first steps. The afternoon sun fades to dusk, neither are ready to let go.

“Chirrut, would you uh, like to come back to mine?”

Its tentatively said, unsure compared to the confident conversation that had just been held.

“I would love that you fool, I will have to use your phone to call my mother though”

“Okay”

That simple one word changes the dynamic, it has gone from a measly date to something more, something bigger. The walk back to Baze’s is as hurried as Chirrut’s guide stick allows for it to be. Blood is rushing through his head as Chirrut calls his mother, preventing him from hearing anything said. Eyes focused on the way Chirrut’s lips move as he speaks. Everything is surreal, there in the hallway one moment, and then there in the bedroom.

It’s funny how such miniscule sequences of events end up changing and defining you. It’s the clarity of this particular moment, in the haze of the rest. Guiding this person through the mess that is his room, aiding with the removal of jackets. It’s seeing the skinny and lean Chirrut, taut muscles honed from years of martial arts exposed by the vest, lying down onto a corner of his bed.

Cassian once said that the best thing about teenage love, is you could make out for hours without any goal, just melting into someone else completely. He had scoffed at Cas’ words, but now he truly believed them. Chirrut’s hands worshipping him with feather light touches, as he grasped onto the skinny body underneath, unable to grasp that this was real unless he could touch it so completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the first time I ever felt like I needed to make a reference post. So that is
> 
>  
> 
> [here](http://kelseywinslow.tumblr.com/post/156928423655/bazes-outfitstyle-is-based-off-of-eddie-vedders)


	4. Interlude (of sorts)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a reason my tumblr page says 'I live for the found family trope'

_You with your penchant for spontaneous events_

_For sticky and raspy, unearthed and then gone_

“What do you think they are up to right now?”

Jyn and Cassian’s groans are long suffering. Cassian had called Jyn the moment he had gotten back home, only for her to invite him round, he had turned around and walked the few blocks to hers to find Bodhi already settled on the sofa, popcorn bowl in hand. This was not uncommon in itself, though missing a Baze in the corner armchair, but somehow Bodhi had gotten his hands on a Pepsi and was bouncing of the satellites, desperate for the phone to ring and Baze to inform them about the date. Some sitcom played out on the TV, one of Jyn’’s favourites judging by her laughter. Cassian will be the first person to tell you he is about being free, not tying himself down to anything or an ideology, but there’s something in this domesticated scene that pleases him more than any bullshit teenage spirituality can. It becomes one of those accidental impromptu sleepovers. Jyn’s parents seem to be the only ones that they would never get up to anything ‘naughty’, trusting them enough to let them all stay over in the living room, with occasional checks to make sure no sleeping bag sharing was occurring. Maybe if all went well, there’d be another person in the room, sharing these long-held rituals with them. Another someone to buy a sleeping bag for. Another someone to spar with in Jyn’s basement.

“Will we let him in?”

Jyn looks clueless as Bodhi replies with a “huh?”

“I mean. Chirrut.  He’s already helped Baze so much in less than a week. And we’ve all met slash stalked him and he seems a pretty nice guy. Do we think there’s room for one more in this little clash of friendship we have”?

“Trust you Cas to come up with the profound shit, you been hanging around with Dameron again, on the grass?”

“Fuck off Jyn I’m being serious. I like this little thing we got going, are we gonna let this ‘idiot’ as Baze likes to call him in?”

“I mean he could train you to be better at fighting, couldn’t he? Then maybe I wouldn't kick your ass so much”

The sofa cushion Jyn gets to her face is well deserved.

“FIGHTTT” and then Bodhi is on them both, dragging them down to floor, spraying popcorn everywhere. They both blame the Pepsi high for why Bodhi comes out on top, standing proudly above them both, straggly hair matted to his face, dorky smile adorning his face.

“Of course, we let him in. I have a feeling that says this was meant to be”

“Bodhz you need to stop watching those stupid space movies, cause we all know you definitely haven’t been hanging out with Dameron”

“The force is strong with me Jyn” Bodhi pauses for dramatic effect, raising a cushion high above his head. “Goodbye Jyn”

Jyn’s cushiony-fate is prevented by the ringing of the phone. She rolls out from where she was pinned by Cassian, flipping him over with an ‘oof’, snatches the pillow from Bodhi and then she’s by the phone, picking up and giving a polite ‘Hello this is the Erso househo—BAZE HOW DID IT GO?”

She’s pretty sure that that was the fastest she’s ever seen Cassian and Bodhi move. She hits the button for loudspeaker and Baze’s gruff voice echoes across the tinny speaker.

“Cas you were right buddy. Oh man. He’s staying over.”

Bodhi’s scream shout of joy deafens them all.

“He called his mum. I wish I had a relationship like that with my parents. Man. He’s in the bathroom right now, I just knew Bodhi would die if I didn’t call. Okay he’s coming back out. Wish me luck.”

A beep cuts them off halfway through.

“What a rude but lucky soul”

“I’ve never heard him sound so happy”

“Chirrut can be our new best friend forever and ever”

The three of them collapse back onto the cushionless sofa, the end bumper plays out on Jyn’s show. It’s the best kind of routine. A friendship dynamic they are all grateful for. Bodhi can damn well tidy up this popcorn mess before they bust out the sleeping bags though. Or maybe Cassian will just let them fall asleep on him again, and they can worry about it in the morning with crooked necks and sleep filled eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretend The Drew Carey Show is playing in the background because it's what I was watching when writing this. (And also its one of my favourite things ever)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you are used to sleeping alone, its hard to suddenly share a bed with someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I let a friend read what I had uploaded. And she was mad when I explained I wasn't going to write what happened once Baze hung up the phone. So thank her for this chapter.  
> Also I pushed up the rating to M cause you know.

_So go, watch the moon disappear. When you get back, I'll still be lying here._

The bed is comprised of a wooden frame, hard mattress, mismatched pillows and a ragged thin blanket thrown haphazardly over the top to complete it. He’s big enough that he overheats easily and one sheet is all he really needs, plus the fact he is very good at getting tangled in sheets. Bodhi had once called him ‘the most restless sleeper the world had ever known’, which was ludicrous coming from the most restless kid the world had ever known. It is different, sharing space on a floor in separate sleeping bags, then sharing a queen size mattress with a skinny blind boy. Sleeping bags are easier to get tangled up in, but allow for freedom off sleeping methods, something that in his 17 years he has got very used to, on the floor off Jyn’s living room. Sharing a bed with someone, is a completely new, and very alien feeling. They had come to some unspoken conclusion that they should stop making out and attempt to sleep, probably before they both feinted from all the sexual tension and lack of oxygen. He had helped Chirrut remove his trousers and showed him where all the stuff was in the room (and cleared a path through the mess to the bathroom). The teen had laid down and couldn’t help but shiver in the cool night time air, so Baze gave him the whole blanket, shrugging and pointing out he was a furnace and didn’t really need it anyway. And then Chirrut was asleep, softly snoring, serene look on his face.

As it turns out, its near impossible to go sleep, when there’s such a handsome man lying next to you, that you’ve just shared such a connection with. Whose mouth is crinkling into a smile caused by whatever dreams that play in his mind. These stupid romantic European films that Cassian makes them all watch, are telling Baze that this date shouldn’t end like this, it should end with either an explosive fight or sex. But he can’t just wake the other up and say ‘oh the films say we should have sex so climb aboard my dick or whatever’. So, it looks like this evening will just end. It’s not a bad way for the week and its surprises to close. He lays back onto the pillow, stretching arms behind his head and closes his eyes. He can feel sleep dragging him under and then Chirrut’s arm reaches out and a sleepy strength pulls him into warm arms, that cling on tightly, a warm head rests into the nook of his shoulder and Baze can do nothing but murmur and fall into sleep. They share warmth under the blanket together, spooning tightly. Waking up in the same position they fell asleep.  

* * *

 

“Baze. Wake up.”

Heavy snores are the reply.

“Baze… come on I need to pee”

Its accompanied by a prod. Chirrut creeps along and aligns himself with Baze’s ear,

“Wake up idiot” still nothing

“WAKE UP IDIOT”

Baze shoots up, headbutting Chirrut on the way causing him to get knocked off the side of the bed, hitting the floor with an oomph. Baze scrambles around in a panic, suddenly awake and aware, peering over the side of his bed, to where Chirrut lies. Engulfed in silent body shaking giggles. Trying to squeeze words out in between breaths that elude him in his mirth.

“Oh” a wheeze “Baze I am sorry” followed by more hysterical laughter.

“Chirrut are you okay fuck I’m more sorry get back on the bed… stop laughing you asshole”

He pulls the laughing fool up onto the bed.

“You weigh so much are you just muscle”

Somehow this reduces Chirrut to silence, quickly painting his features into stoicism.

A moment passes, before Chirrut breaks again into laughter.

“Asshole” Baze throws a pillow at Chirrut. Who somehow dodges and sneaks up on Baze, pinning him down to the bed.

“What’s the time”

Baze bends his neck round to stare at his digital clock.

“Fucking hell Chirrut its only 6 in the morning, my parents aren’t even back from work yet I mean 6 am”

“I needed to pee”

“Oh yeah”

Baze rolls him off, and gets off the bed, grabbing Chirrut’s hand and helping him up and out.

By the time, they make it back to the bedroom, Baze wants nothing more than to go back to sleep. It’s a Saturday and 2 pm is the only time to wake up. But Chirrut has other plans, using his hands he maps out Baze and climbs on top of him. Baze automatically regrets the fact he slept in just boxers, as Chirrut slides against him. The regret is brief, Chirrut clearly notices judging by the sly smile and the way his hips start grinding tiny circles.

“Come out with me today. I was planning on training this afternoon, I’d like to see how you fight. Call your friends up, bring them too”

It’s said innocently, blue misty pools gazing down, mouth set into a cheerful smile. It’s a stark contrast to the sinful way Chirrut’s boxer clad lower half grinds down on him, boxers that are notably tented.

A grunt that sounds sort of like an okay is all Baze can get out, before his hands are off their own accord running up Chirrut’s side and peeling the vest he wears off, it joins the messy pile on the floor.

It becomes a mess of hands everywhere. The making out last night was nothing really compared to this sudden friction. It was innocent kissing, fully clothed, now its touching and grinding and it’s both too early and to ‘am I awake’ for this to be really happening. And then Chirrut is moving towards him, and the moment their lips touch, any pretence of innocence goes to loss.

It would of never have crossed Baze’s mind that he would be having his first sexual experience with a blind boy that had snarked at him after a martial arts display. With a boy he had met a week ago and was quickly starting to like very much.

Chirrut is just mumbling prayers under his breath that Baze will not realise he has no clue what he is doing.  Kissing trails up patches of exposed skin, feeling his way through Baze’s body, something that has become second nature now, this mapping out of skin as a substitute for the sight he is missing. A rough hand is sliding down into his boxers, grasping callously at his aching erection. He can feel Baze bucking up into him, erection searing heat through the two layers of fabric that separated them. It all becomes what seems one crazed impulsive but fluid motion from there, Baze flipping them over, divesting Chirrut of his boxers, near ripping his own off just to rub against each other with no fabric intervention. Chirrut flipping them back into the original position, head dipping lower to taste Baze, warm wet heat of a mouth encapsulating Baze’s heavy aching member. Chirrut is damn intuitive, knowing exactly what pressure is needed and where to lick stripes and blow at the right moments. Baze explodes into Chirrut’s mouth, hands marking new grooves into Chirrut’s supple skin.

He doesn’t let himself have time to recover from his orgasm, wanting nothing more than to return the favour. Grabbing and manoeuvring Chirrut into a position where he can go down on him easily. He’s not as graceful, more slurpy and uncoordinated, but it’s clearly enough and before long he’s choking down what Chirrut has to offer.

He curls in, head resting on Chirrut’s soft belly. He glances at the clock before his eyes close.

It blinks as the numbers form in his eyesight.

7.30am.

Sleep takes them both again. Half covered by the blanket, Baze snoozing on Chirrut’s stomach, lying in the sticky hot and sweaty mess of their own creation. Snores combining into an offbeat harmony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided I should probably only do two more chapters as to not push the boat. So fight scene, and then a sort of epilogue.   
> Quote this chapter  
> The Spring Standards - Watch the Moon Disappear


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang has made it to Chirrut's house, ready to take on the martial artist in a little friendly sparring. Of course it does not go well for some of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. This chapter probably isn't my best. But it will do donkey, it will do.   
> As usual, un beta'd so feel free to point out any errors. 
> 
> I also introduce Chirrut's mum here, her name is an apology of sorts becuase I realised like 3 chapters in I had forgetten about K-2. I am sorry my tiny robot friend.

_You make the knees of my bees weak, tremble and buckle_

Baze had sort of expected to get his ass kicked by Chirrut, but not this badly. Jyn’s crass laughter is assaulting his ears, and Cassian’s just been flipped on to him. Chirrut is grinning, standing facing them, as they lie on the floor groaning. He’s produced his guide stick, and as he speaks he prods them all with it.

“You met me” a sharp prod “at a martial arts” the next prod causes Bodhi to yelp “demonstration” Chirrut inhales. “Where I kicked how many guy’s asses?” he pauses in his relentless prodding.

“6 guy’s asses Chirri”

“Thank you Jyn” the snark that its said with cuts through the air.

“I kicked 6 guy’s asses. And you dare try and fight me and think you’ll win?” Each word is punctuated with a harder than before prod.

“In all fairness Chirri, you did ask them to fight you”

Chirrut just laughs.

“I guess I did Jyn”

Jyn takes this opportunity to sneak up on Chirrut, Bodhi had already tried the method and ended up sprawled on the floor, but Chirrut was more relaxed now. She had half expected him to block her with his guide stick. But he didn’t, and that’s how Jyn Erso, knocked Chirrut Îmwe to the floor.

A soft melodic laughter rings out from the back of the Îmwe household. A woman, clad in a dress thrown over a shirt, about Bodhi’s height, has appeared in the doorway. “You must be Jyn, congratulations on finally besting my son. I believe lemonade is in order for all of you”

Chirrut speaks up from his new position on the floor.

“I do believe Jyn got the upper hand over me then. Shameful Jyn, beating up a blind man.” She just laughs. “This is my mum Kaye” The woman in the door bows as she is introduced. And they all, apart from Jyn, roll up off of the floor and go to greet Chirrut’s mother.

Baze reaches out a hand for Chirrut to take, and finds himself rejected. Chirrut gets up of his own accord and strides past Baze. It stings, and Baze is content to sulk, plodding along slower than the rest up to Kaye.

“Chirrut has told me a lot about all of you the past week. I appreciate that you are all considerate with my son. Apart from you Jyn, beating him up” She tuts as she shakes Jyn’s hand, and then laughs. “I’m still very impressed by that” she turns to the boys. “You two must be Bodhi and Cassian, I’ve heard nothing but positive things about you two as well.” They both smile back there thank you’s. And then Kaye turns to Baze, puzzling quirk of a smile on her face as her eyes look straight into his. “And you must be Baze, the enigma.” She pauses and her quirk turns into more of a proper smile. “For my son to spend so much time with you, staying over your house, I know so little about you.” She touches him on the arm, a ghost of a touch, giving him a shiver similar to the one Chirrut gives him, imbued with power, spirituality and happiness. “All I know is he has seemed to have fallen in love with you, and you him, in such a short space of time. Boys are fools, all of you should keep that in mind”

Baze spurts, looking at Chirrut quizzically.

“She knows?”

“Of course, you wonder where I get my inquisitive mind from?”

Cassian cannot suppress the giggles he has been holding in anymore. Through breathy laughter his voice rings out. “Oh, Mrs Îmwe, a gay and blind son. That’s film worthy honestly”

She has the good grace to laugh along with him. “I pulled all the lucky straws, and I truly mean that, I wouldn’t trade anything for my Chirrut here” she strokes her hand across his face. “Now come inside, I promised you lemonade and I mean to make good on that promise.”

Baze hangs back as the rest of them bumble through the doors, Bodhi’s arms slung over both Cassian and Chirrut. Jyn giggling at the sight, mocking them openly.

“Are you alright Baze?”

Kaye’s voice is clear. He shakes his head in a kind of yes/no combination nod, as if he’s not quite sure what he is feeling. Picks up his feet and follows them all inside. It’s when he makes it to the kitchen, and sees his lifelong friends so comfortable with his newfound boyfriend, it strikes him what is wrong. Cassian, Bodhi and Jyn are sat on the window seat, Cassian flirting with both per normal. Chirrut is laughing, trying to show Cassian how to flirt properly, batting his eyelids together, it’s stupid but it makes them all laugh.

Everything feels right and that terrifies Baze. His life has never been this stable, he has never been this understood and this loved, and it has all happened in some whirlwind week like his life is a story in a fanzine Bodhi favours. It’s incredible and terrifying all in one go. Like he is standing at the edge of a cliff, and if he takes one more step into this, he will be freefalling forever. Chirrut is looking directly at him now, the constellation in his unseeing eyes telling Baze to follow, to jump down into the world. To freefall. It’s the hand outstretched, palm soft but calloused. A question. A reassurance that if Baze falls Chirrut will catch him, and his friends will help heal him. Baze takes a breath and reaches for the offered hand. Jumps of the proverbial cliff.  

His voice comes out hoarse. “Cassian, you flirt like this”, they all turn and look at him intently, as he removes Chirrut’s palm from his hand, turning it over, tracing lines in it. “Chirrut, your hands are so soft.” He gets to planting tiny little kisses on the lines he has traced, before Jyn shouts ‘get a room lovebirds’.

Freefalling is fine, for now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here the seeds are sown for the next chapter, the epilogue of sorts.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A 12 years later Epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe what was meant to be a sort of one-shot ended up at 7 chapters, and I think the longest thing I've ever written. Thank you for the feedback, and I hope everyone has enjoyed this.  
> Here's to High School Au's and Rogue One for giving us space husbands.

_You've been nothing but open hearted and emotionally available and supportive._

_I kept drawing you in and pushing you away._

_You were the best platform from which to jump beyond myself, what was wrong with me?_

The days of teenage youth are marked by interlocking moments, weaved together by shared memories, captured on photographs, or spurred on by the rhythm of a song. You look back at it, all a blur, and think you would change everything and nothing at all. There was nothing more incredible than these moments, such a short span in the plentiful years you get to live out. But its these moments that form you as a person.

Those academics who study decades or cultural impact decide the 1990s to be that of ‘the age of global communication’. And as a friendship group they take their first formative steps at the end of this decade, marching as adults into a millennium that they recognise as unsteady as the past millennia. College drives them all apart, spread to all the corners of a world too big for them to truly explore, as if they know one day they will all meet up again and put together the pieces of the world they have collected individually to form one puzzle.

Love is lost, love is regained. Policies change, all love is accepted, all are accepted. No one gets to a perfect state though without heartbreak and pain, years off loss and most importantly hope.

Hope is a funny concept; a dictionary would tell you that it means wishing for something in belief that it might come true. But hope is so much more than this, than wishing and beliefs. Especially to a man who cannot see the words typed out in a dictionary, a man who once had hopes that he could see those words one day, before the beauty of teenage youth presented him with a gruff boy whose heart was made of gold. Life took them away from each other, in their group of friends they went the furthest away. The gawky blind one who could break you in two found his way to New Zealand, trying to find something. The something was the boy who ended up travelling through Sweden, sticking out like a sore thumb more than he had ever before. Hope was in the prayers that they said each night, both aware but not quite willing to admit that there was no one else that would ever be as important.

Chirrut finds faith in some tiny religion based of Buddhist precepts, mumbling prayers under his breath. He is one with the force, and the force is one with him. Baze finds something akin to the happiness he felt a long time ago in the sunny heat of his youth, making artworks of the things he saw in his dreams. Thing he could not remember, a symbolism that borderlined on religious divinity mixed in with the aches and colours of a youth he was so desperate to remember but so desperate to forget.

And when the bell above the tiny café door rings, and a lean man with blue constellation eyes and a white stick walks in, Baze’s world is shifted. It’s the flashback, Jyn’s eager voice, the wrinkles of Cassian’s eyes as he smiles, Bodhi’s enthusiastic greeting, and looking at the most handsome man he had ever seen. The world reverts into the now, those blue eyes glazed over, yet to notice him. Or the fact that the 12 years apart had fucked with his brain. Because of course he had yet to be notice, the man could not see. The piece he was working on lay before him, ruined or perhaps bettered by the jerky line that now runs through it, splitting the work in two. The line that had formed the moment his past had walked into the present. And then the idiot has the cheek to come up to the table.

“Is this seat taken?”

The voice, suddenly so familiar, cuts through him like glass.

“No, feel free”

It’s a fight to keep his reply steady, but he manages. Now he is up close he sees how the world has affected Chirrut, and somehow it has only made him more handsome, lines of laughter wearing his face down into perfection. It is reassuring that Chirrut has spent all this time happy and content. Though perhaps the loose button shirt and airy linen trousers are an indication of the changes that have occurred, because hell the man would still look killer in the vest and jean look he so favoured in his teens. A barista brings over Chirrut’s drink, what smells like a jasmine tea. It’s the polite thank you that makes Baze want to cry. Somehow having seen Chirrut interact with someone else is true proof that this moment is real.

The words that he wants to say so badly are lodged in his throat, burning it up trying to escape, but they are forced down.

“What are you painting?”

The idiot is as intuitive as ever.

“A memory”

It stings to get the two words out, but he manages.

“What kind of memory?”

The burning pain is gone, the words rush out.

“The memory of the time we danced in those torn sheets in the rain”

His voice stutters each syllable, giving the sentences a poetic off-beat.

“I got so ill. And I never regretted it. I can remember it, Cassian’s music playing from that boombox, all crackly. The way your hair got plastered to your face in the rain.”

Chirrut’s hands reach across the table, smudging his long shirt sleeves in paint. They feel exactly how he remembers them, and different all the same.

“I spent the whole time hoping”

“Hoping for what?”

“Hoping that you were the one Baze. Because nobody could ever live up to you.”

Chirrut smiles a smile that relights the best fire he has ever felt in his soul, and speaks two words that fuels the fire forevermore.

“My love”

Baze Malbus once hated people, his friends, dragging him places. He was too gruff, looking 10 years older than he was. Lacking the social finesse to ever fit in. So he made himself an artist so he wouldn’t have to fit in to anyone but the wierdos, those wierdos who ended up being Jyn, Cassian and Bodhi, who were all fully aware of how he felt. Who had spent their whole lives integrating him slowly into a culture. He ends up explaining in words what they mean to him, and stops protesting anytime they drag him out of the house.

Walking along the pavement, Chirrut’s hand linked as loosely as their shared chatter, they head down to Jyn’s house, for a bonfire.

The moments that form you as a person, become wishes and dreams and memories. They become friendships that last decades, captured on the cameras that lurk in phones. Video playback of a bonfire that burns as 5 friends dance around in celebration of the fact they had made it this far. All reunited under the milky glare of the moon.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the last chapter hinted at why these two had separated. I tried to imply that Baze was uncomfortable with the idea of being in something so safe and loving, and it took him a 12 year separation to realise that it was all he had ever wanted. 
> 
> It sounds pretentious, but I honestly think this is the best thing I've written in probably a long time. 
> 
> (Quote is paraphrased from the verse three of Alanis Morissette's Unsent)

**Author's Note:**

> Title and quote from alanis morissette's knees of my bees  
> 


End file.
